


we're no where near perfect

by Acexual_Attorney



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Drug Abuse, M/M, Misunderstandings, Partying, everyones a dick expect seokmin sorry ://, i dont wanna give to much away but pls dont read if u dont like conflict
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 13:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16138193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acexual_Attorney/pseuds/Acexual_Attorney
Summary: Of course Minghao knew Soonyoung didn’towehim anything. Just because they were soulmates didn’t mean theyhadto be together in a long-term monogamous relationship. Minghao knew this because plenty of people werejust friendswith their soulmate, claiming that the romantic spark was never found and they are content to just live together platonically.Minghao knew this,but it still hurt.





	we're no where near perfect

**Author's Note:**

> soo uhh ive been working on this for the better part of a year and im not even done w/ it lmao but i do know what im gonna do for chapter 2 all its gonna take is for me to get off my own ass and write it (but college sucks and im busy unu)  
> also s/o to [wynne](http://anonymoussong13.tumblr.com/) for reading this 5 years ago and giving me feedback ilu :*

The loud thud of the bass was deafening, overpowering whatever other instruments might be playing in the upbeat EDM song. It was loud enough that Minghao didn’t have to think as he danced between the throngs of people.

Minghao didn’t go clubbing often, didn’t drink often, usually because the taste of beer and smell of weed made him want to retch, but a few cocktails later all alcohol started to taste the same and he stopped caring. Plus, the smell of weed wasn’t half as strong as the smell of sweat rolling off every party-goers’ body as they all danced together in some kind of cesspool moving without rhyme or rhythm.

It was awful when Minghao was sober, but Jeonghan was able to force enough alcohol into his system that the music wasn’t loud enough, if anything.

“You’re a great dancer!” He thinks he hears some girl yell near his ear. He isn’t sure if she’s talking to him or someone else, but when he turns to find out, a wave of nausea hits him like a freight train. Dancing and drinking isn’t a good combination, but drunk Minghao is one of the stupidest people Minghao knows. The only thing he can do is scold past him and hope it doesn’t happen again.

Of course, these thoughts aren’t relatively near the front of Minghao’s mind. Instead, he was trying to see past the flashing lights to try and find a bathroom so he didn’t ruin about ten peoples’ outfits with the vomit tickling the back of his throat.

He pushed past the people who didn’t have the common decency to get out of his way, the urgency of the situation making him throw all manners out the window for the time being. He eventually did find the men’s restroom (thank god), pushing open a gray door to reveal an even gray-er room.

The bathroom was even more dirty than the club, gray piss staining the off-white walls next to the urinals and the tiled floor was cracking away to reveal dark patches of cement beneath. Minghao really hoped that wasn’t fungi growing out of the base of one the stalls, and what appeared to be dirt poking out between the cracks in the revealed concrete didn’t soothe his fears. A guy with light hair was passed out in the corner, sitting with his head down, knees up, and face pressed into his legs. Minghao could relate.

He could take in the depressing scenery later, though, because the looming threat of vomiting was rearing its ugly head again and he could already feel the bile building up in the back of his throat. He rushing into one of the stalls, not even bothering to lock it behind him, just in time for the second wave of nausea to knock him off his feet and have him kneeling over the dirty porcelain. Sometime between the reappearance of the dumplings he had for lunch and the crackers he vaguely remembered being offered to him by an overworked barista, he swore off ever drinking again and maybe cutting Jeonghan out of his life entirely. It was an empty promise, but one that made him feel better in the moment.

After he was done and the bathroom smelt even worse than when he came in, he flushed the toilet and stood up to find something to take the nasty aftertaste of vomit out of his mouth. Unless he was willing to bite into one of the urinal cakes (he almost threw up again at just the thought) nothing immediately presented itself, so he settled for running his mouth under the tap water from the krusty sink instead. The water was metallic and seemed a bit too dark to meet with the health code, but it was better than the bitter taste of bile that coated his tongue.

The guy sitting in the corner laughed, head tilted back so it rested against the cold wall. Minghao looked at him out of the corner of his eye, and the guy opened his eyes to look back at him.

“You look fucking wrecked,” he said, words slurring together into a sentence only barely recognizable as Korean. Red rimmed his eyes and it was obvious he was high.

Wait.

Red.

The color was faint, barely there, but still stood out against the monochromatic grays that usually filled Minghao’s world. Other translucent colors made an appearance. Vague blues peeked out behind the dull gray of the bathroom stalls and the light hair of the mystery man started to slowly turn yellow, eyes darkening to brown and a rosy sheen melting into his sweat-soaked skin.

The stranger stared back, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. Neither said anything, too paralyzed in realization and overwhelmed in how many colors were slowly but surely making their presence known.

Minghao didn’t fantasize about meeting his soulmate often, but when he did, it usually went along the lines of meeting in a crowd, and when the realization hit them, they would fight against the waves of people to reach one another. It wasn’t the most fantastic of dreams, he will admit, but it helped him distract himself when he was laying in bed and knew there were unpaid bills on his kitchen table days overdue.

“Holy shit,” the boy breathed, voice quiet and scratchy

With the mix of alcohol and adrenaline running through his system, Minghao couldn’t respond with anything more intelligent than a small “Yeah.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” he said again, slumping against the wall and closing his eyes. He kept chanting ‘holy shit’ to himself, and Minghao couldn’t blame him.

There wasn’t any real proper way for Minghao to approach who he guessed was his soulmate. Never once did they mention a situation like this in school, but he could try his best, so with an awkward shuffle and meek clearing of his throat, he said, “I’m- uh- Xu Minghao, by the way.”

The guy peeked open one eye and looked Minghao up and down before reaching out a hand and saying, “I’m Kwon Soonyoung.” He sighed, then patted the ground next to him and Minghao took the invitation to sit down next to him.

“I’m not normally like this,” Soonyoung said.

“Like what? High?”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung drew out the vowels as he tilted his head back against the wall again, “It’s only a twice a week thing, I swear, but I’ll tell you what, meeting your soulmate is a hell of a way to sober up.”

Minghao laughed, leaning forward with one arm on his knee and hiding his smile with his other hand. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” he giggled, “I’m drunk off my ass right now, so I think we’re even.”

“Thank god,” Soonyoung breathed out in relief. “I thought I was gonna make a goddamn fool of myself in front of my soulmate.” A small giggle and Soonyoung was turning to Minghao with upturned eyes. “Looks like we’re both fools.”

Minghao didn’t know if the warm feeling in his chest was normal. Sure, Soonyoung was supposed to be his soulmate, but they literally just met. Minghao liked Soonyoung so far, though- or, at least, this part of Soonyoung. The one that smiled and laughed and seemed a bit too carefree. Then again, Soonyoung was high and Minghao was drunk and they were sitting on a fucking filthy bathroom floor. Nothing about the situation was normal, but Minghao was okay with that.

 

* * *

  


When Minghao woke up, he almost screamed. He didn’t recognize the colors of his walls or the rainbow being cast across his duvet by the refracted sunlight seeping through his window. It was all new and foreign and left Minghao in a state of awe.

He soon learned to curse the too many colors when an overpowering headache made him clench his jaw and bolt out of bed in fear he might vomit. He was kneeling over his own toilet this time, wondering why in the world the person who owned his apartment before him decided to use a disgustingly bright mustard yellow as wallpaper.

All he could throw up was his own stomach acid, a sickly green color that left his stomach churning even more. He ran the sink, trying to wash away the nasty taste in his mouth. The water was clear- not the blue everyone talked about when reminiscing of the ocean and summer pools.

It was disappointing, especially with how much everyone hyped up meeting their soulmate, but it was all so new and all Minghao could do was gape at the world around him before he caught himself with his mouth open.

Minghao wondered how Soonyoung was dealing with it.

Wait.

Fuck.

_Fuck_.

How could he be so stupid. In his own defense, he was drunk off his ass and Soonyoung was so high he couldn’t count past ten, but still- _fuck_.

“I’m a fucking dumbass,” Minghao said out loud to his empty apartment, letting his head fall to the counter as the sink continued to run.

“I’m a fucking dumbass,” he said later to Mingyu in an overpopulated coffee shop down the road.

Mingyu was having the time of his life, upturned eyes peeking out above his coffee as he sipped it smugly. Minghao wanted to punch him- would punch him if they weren’t in public and he wasn’t seeking advice.

Finally, after enough time of Minghao fuming over himself, Mingyu set down his coffee and said, “So you met your soulmate and _didn’t_ ask him for his number immediately?”

Minghao grumbled something under his breath similar to quite a few curse words before shoving his chin into one propped up hand so he could tap his finger impatiently on his cheek.

A few more seconds and Minghao finally mumbled out a half-audible “No.” He was looking off to the side, studying the decorated wall of the coffee shop so he didn’t have to deal with Mingyu looking at him like _that_ , like he finally had a leg up on Minghao.

Mingyu just let out a short chuckle, hand attempting to cover his giant ass grin. “Damn, you really are a dumbass,” he said through an amused smile.

“And you’re a _great_ friend,” Minghao spat, turning back to Mingyu to glare daggers at him, upper lip turning into a snarl. Minghao was _not_ in the mood.

“Okay, damn,” Mingyu raised his hands in defense, backing off immediately when he saw how snappy Minghao was getting. He knew how to press Minghao’s buttons, but he didn’t want to break the poor bastard (didn’t want to piss Minghao off so bad that he would get in a fight). One look at Minghao’s defeated eyes and Mingyu could tell the younger was going through a hard time.

“What do you want me to be here for?” Mingyu asked when Minghao’s face finally relaxed back into its neutral sadness. “Advice or just someone to talk to?”

Minghao sighed and dropped all pretenses of haughtiness, shoulders slumping as the weight of what was happening finally laid itself on him.

“Advice, please.”

Mingyu scratched his chin and leaned back in his chair, lower lip pouting out in thought. His eyes ran across the ceiling like that would reveal the best answer for Minghao.

“Well,” he started out apprehensively, “it’s definitely a tough situation. How are you supposed to refind your soulmate if you can already see color? You said you don’t really know anything about him, so he could honestly be anywhere right now. You don’t know where he works, if he’s in university, what district he lives in, or what his hobbies are- and even if he did tell you any of that stuff, you were too blackout drunk to remember. Definitely tough.”

Mingyu once again became quiet in thought and Minghao huffed. He didn’t need the recap, but Mingyu thought better when he thought aloud, so he allowed it.

After too long of Mingyu thinking in silence, he finally shrugged and said, “Sounds like your best bet is going back to that club and pray you find him again.”

“That’s all you can give me?” Minghao asked, voice pitched higher in disbelief. Mingyu just shrugged in response.

A pout from Minghao and Mingyu sighed, picking at the paint chips on coffee table uselessly. “I don’t know what to tell you, Minghao, I’m sorry. I know it sounds awful but these things just happen sometimes. If he’s really your soulmate, he’ll turn up again, there’s no use in going out and causing more trouble.”

And that’s where their key difference lied, why so many arguments sprung up between them. Mingyu was content to wait, to let life play out whatever it had planned for him, and so far it worked out. Someone offered him a job when he was a high schooler because they believed his good looks could bring in more customers. He miraculously got accepted into his first choice of schools and even got scholarship money for his good grades. He found his soulmate, Junhui, the first year of college because they shared quite a few classes, despite Junhui being a year above. He got a job quickly after getting his associates and has gotten two promotions after working there for ten months.

Of course, Minghao didn’t doubt that Mingyu worked hard for his accomplishments in life- he studied his butt off in school and made as many connections as he could in college to widen his job range. However, Mingyu was always content with whatever happened, the ups and the downs, and believed that whatever happened happened and there was nothing he could do to change his “destiny”.

Minghao, on the other hand, spit in the face of destiny. He thought the only way to progress forward was to grab life by the balls and threaten to pull hard if shit didn’t go his way. He took the downs in their rawest form and trudged forward to make it better. He was active in his own life, and if there was something he didn’t like, he would try to change that as soon as possible, sneering at the thought of letting ‘destiny’ take care of it for him.

So, when Mingyu said to wait it out, Minghao scoffed and almost dumped his now-cold coffee over the other.

Instead, he said, “I can’t just _wait around_ , Mingyu. My soulmate is out there somewhere and it’s up to me to find him! I can’t operate under the assumption that life will take care of this.” Mingyu looked at Minghao sourly, so Minghao took a deep breath and tried to explain himself better. “Listen, I know that you don’t think I can change the course of fate, but I’m not just gonna sit around and wait. What if he’s out there looking for me too? I have to try my best to find him because life might not lead us in the same direction. I have to try, Mingyu.”

A second more of Mingyu’s puckered lips twisted to the side before he broke out into a wide smile that revealed every tooth he had. “You’ve gotten a lot better at Korean,” he said, narrowly dodging a half-hearted punch from Minghao. “Alright, I’ll help you! Don’t hit me, please, my face is too pretty. I’ll ask around and see if any of my coworkers know of a Kwon Soonyoung.”

Minghao lowered his raised fist that was threatening to take another swing at Mingyu and sighed gratefully. “Thank you,” he said and ran a tired hand over his face. “I’ll go back to the club this weekend to see if I can find him or ask around about him.” He glanced up at Mingyu, who was trying to finish his own coffee before it went cold, and smiled as genuinely as he could. “Thank you for helping me.”

“No problem,” he shrugged as he set his mug down on the stained table. “What are friends for?”

 

* * *

 

Being back at the club without an ounce of alcohol in his system was, for a lack of a better word, depressing. Slightly surreal but still very much depressing. Sure, there were plenty of people around to liven up the place, but the air was still rank and the speakers were blown out from overuse and Minghao suspects that it’s so dark because the owners could only afford strobe lights and not actual overheads. Still, it was popular, but unpopular enough for the police to not break it down in a drug raid, and Minghao guessed that’s why Soonyoung even came here in the first place.

“See him yet?” Minghao asked Seokmin, who was kind enough to accompany him to the dirty club. He would have asked Jeonghan, but Jeonghan doesn’t know how to go anywhere without a shot first and they should probably have an intervention for him, but that could be at a later date. Right now, Minghao had other things to worry about.

Seokmin sighed and shook his head. “Everyone here looks the same in this lighting,” he said lowly enough for Minghao to almost not hear over the loud dance music.

And even though he didn’t want to admit it, Seokmin was right. Everyone had wild bleached hair in varying shades of yellow. The only people that stood out were those who kept their dark hair or the ridiculously tall. Maybe he should have brought Mingyu instead. Still, the only thing differentiating the individual in the throngs of people weaving together like they were trying to make a blanket were their outrageously colorful clothing- flashes of brilliant red and vivid blues here and there when the lights decided to do their job and allow them to see.

It was confusing, but Minghao could only imagine how confusing it was for someone who hadn’t yet found their soulmate, like Seokmin. Minghao couldn’t imagine how he himself navigated the labyrinth of people just a week prior.

Thinking about it made him feel off center.

A group of people enter the club, somehow adding to the already deafening noise that hummed over the beat of the music. Minghao scanned each face desperately, trying to find any resemblance to Soonyoung in the new batch of faces, but it was useless. The closest was a short girl with chubby cheeks and bleached hair that was pulled high into two pigtails. She was pretty, but she wasn’t Soonyoung, so Minghao just frowned in disappointment.

They spent the next two hours like that: scanning the crowd from the safety of the bar. Occasionally, Minghao would work up enough courage to brave the waves of people, throwing himself into the middle of the sea in the hopes that, somehow, they had missed Soonyoung entering entirely. It was no use, though. Soon enough, three am rolled around and Seokmin was pulling at Minghao’s sleeve to get his attention.

“It’s getting late,” Seokmin said into his ear so he could be heard over the loud thrumming of the entire club. “If he hasn’t come by now, I don’t think he’s coming at all.”

Minghao nodded and let Seokmin lead him towards the doors of the club. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Seokmin was right. Maybe Soonyoung had gone to a different club or just didn’t go out at all tonight. Minghao knew it was unlikely to re-meet his soulmate less than a week after their first encounter, but disappointment still settled deep in his belly.

It wasn’t like he put up much of a fight, though. He had work Monday and it would probably be for the best if he rested instead of staying up fruitlessly. He couldn’t frame pictures right if he was too tired to think straight, something his friends remind him of relentlessly when he complains about the throbbing headaches he gets after staying out until 4am. He wasn’t one to get drunk, but he did frequently party or just wander around Gangnam until well into the morning.

It got so bad at one point that his boss had to confront him about it, like how right now he was confronting him about the deep purple bags under his eyes.

“Dude, what the fuck did you do last night?” Bambam asked in lieu of a greeting.

Maybe calling him “boss” would give people the wrong idea- that they had a very formal relationship, but that was almost laughably far from the truth. Minghao absolutely worked for Bambam, but they were also friends from high school, bonding over the fact that they were non-Koreans in a foreign land.

When Bambam had started up his own fashion business with his soulmate, Yugyeom, he offered Minghao the job of photographing the outfits and models. It wasn’t like he made buckets of money, especially since the company was still relatively small, but it made enough for Minghao to pay the bills whenever he remembered he had them.

God, Minghao was so tired he was spacing out too much, going off in a tangent in his own head. Trying to shake himself awake, Minghao just shrugged, mindlessly wiping off the lense of his camera for probably the tenth time in the last thirty minutes.

“You look like shit,” Bambam said when Minghao didn’t answer verbally.

Minghao gave Bambam a sour look. Bambam just raised an eyebrow and took the camera out of Minghao’s hands.

“Tell me what’s wrong or I’m sending you home without pay.

The threat made Minghao cringe because he knew for a fact that Bambam would follow through. He was an asshole that cared, a combination that was deadly in Minghao’s book.

“I met my soulmate,” Minghao said bluntly and the look Bambam made reminded Minghao of those stress balls whose eyes popped out of their rubber head when they were squeezed too tight. Minghao would have laughed if Bambam wasn’t crushing his shoulders in his vice-like grip.

“You what now?” Bambam asked, voice high-pitched and close to cracking.

“I mean, I haven’t talked to him since, but-“

“You _what_ now?” Bambam asked again and Minghao was scared he would burst a blood vessel.

Bambam opened his mouth to probably bombard Minghao with questions, but before he could, there was a light knock on the open door. Both of them had almost forget they were- you know- at work and that there was a rookie model named Boo Seungkwan who was scheduled for the shoot today, a shoot that, according to the wall clock, they were already running behind. Bambam gave Minghao a thin-lipped stern look after glancing at the time and said, “We are talking about this later.”

And talk they did. After the model left with a bow and an agreement to do business again in the near future, Bambam sat Minghao down forcefully in the only chair in the entire room and put his hands on his hips.

“Okay, first of all, when did you meet your soulmate?” He asked.

With the feeble answer of “two weeks ago”, Bambam made a closed-mouthed scream. “ _Why didn’t you tell me_?” was his follow-up question.

Minghao just shrugged. Honestly, he should have told Bambam, but he didn’t really find it important to tell him until he was able to actually have contact with his soulmate again. Sure, he could actually see color now, but what’s the point in that if he can’t enjoy it with his soulmate?

“That’s a stupid reason,” Bambam scowled, making Minghao feel a little bit guilty, but only a little bit. This was the same guy that dropped contact with Minghao without telling him beforehand that he was going to be gone for two weeks because he was following his boyfriend around Korea for dance competitions. They were even now, in Minghao’s mind.

“I just don’t see why it’s so important,” Minghao just shrugged.

“Oh my _god_ , Minghao-“ Bambam shoved Minghao’s shoulder before gripping onto them so he could look Minghao dead in the eye- “you’re such a tsundere it hurts, just- oh my god I’m so happy for you.” Bambam pulled Minghao into a hug and Minghao sighed.

“Oh my _god_ , Bambam-“ Minghao mocked, rolling his eyes but still wrapping his arms around Bambam to reciprocate- “you’re so emotional it hurts.”

A firm slap to Minghao’s back and a promise to go on a double date whenever Minghao re-found Soonyoung later, Bambam let Minghao get back to work. ‘Back to work’ was more checking over his equipment and meticulously cleaning his camera while he waited for the next model, but it was better than being hounded by Bambam.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks turned into three which turned into a month and Minghao was slowly starting to lose hope. The past four weeks he had gone to more clubs than his entire time being in Korea and just thinking about the booming bass made his head hurt. He wasn’t going to stop, though. He made up his mind and he was going to find Soonyoung even if it killed him.

So that leaves him in another club at 1am, reeking of weed and idly scanning the crowd for the face that has been filling his dreams for the past month. He was about to turn back to the bar, resigned to giving up early tonight, when something caught his eye.

A flash of blonde hair, sharp eyes, high cheek bones- was it? Between the tangled clubbers there was another flash of bright clothes, someone dancing- it had to be. Minghao’s heart rate picked up.

Like in a trance, Minghao made his way over. Pushing between bodies until he got close enough to see the shock of hair along with the face and the body and- and the other body? Soonyoung was dancing with someone. Minghao couldn’t see who it was, but Soonyoung was holding onto their hips like his hands belonged there and Minghao suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

Of course Minghao knew Soonyoung didn’t _owe_ him anything. Just because they were soulmates didn’t mean they _had_ to be together in a long-term monogamous relationship. Minghao knew this because plenty of people were  _just friends_ with their soulmate, claiming that the romantic spark was never found and they are content to just live together platonically.

Minghao knew this,

but it still hurt.

Actually seeing Soonyoung dance that closely with just another pretty face in the crowd, seeing how much he was grinding up against the other person like he never even thought about having a soulmate in the first place- Minghao wanted to cry.

Not because he “lost Soonyoung” or some bullshit, not because he was sad they would never have that romance- he wanted to cry tears of frustration because Soonyoung had _given up on him_. Soonyoung danced like there was no tomorrow, like Minghao was the last thing on his mind. Soonyoung didn’t even entertain the idea of at least trying to find Minghao, essentially spitting into the face of all the effort Minghao put in. Minghao was fucking _furious_.

Soonyoung didn’t owe him anything but like hell his soulmate was going to be someone that gave up so easily.

Before the hot tears of anger could run down his cheeks, he was out of the club and into the cold bathroom with the stench of vomit and weed and sweat and Minghao wanted to throw up even if he didn’t have a drop of alcohol all night. He felt like his eyes were on fire and made out of sandpaper or like a tiny monster was trying to claw its way out of his sockets and he wanted _out_ \- out of his body, out of this club, out of this country, out of this dimension. Everything seemed wobbly and a little bit distorted like he just woke up from a fever dream.

Minghao stumbled to a corner where he slid down to the floor so he wouldn’t bust his head open from how disoriented he was. It all felt too much and he definitely was on the verge of having anxiety attack. He had to rub furiously at his eyes so tears wouldn’t fall and he could feel his face getting red from frustration.

How could he be so  _stupid_? Of course Soonyoung wouldn’t want to find Minghao. Minghao was nothing, just a passerby who just so happened to give Soonyoung his ability to see color.  Of course Soonyoung wouldn’t want anything to do with Minghao. In fact, Soonyoung is probably insulted that someone like Minghao is his soulmate- someone so hot headed and stubborn and way too skinny. They only talked to each other for a total of an hour, why would Soonyoung be interested in him at all, romantic or platonic?

_God_ , how could he have been so stupid as to think he was desirable to someone? Maybe Mingyu was right- maybe he should have let life play things out so his heart wouldn’t be clenching with hurt like this.

Too curled up in on himself, Minghao didn’t even bother looking up when he heard someone enter the bathroom. They probably didn’t even see him either, too drunk or high to take in their surroundings past the need to find a toilet. Minghao didn’t blame them, but he couldn’t help cursing at them in his head. It was selfish, but he wanted attention, wanted for someone to coddle him and sympathize with his pain, but maybe it was for the better if he just stayed alone for now- stayed alone forever.

He had to leave eventually, though. He couldn’t spend the entire night in the bathroom of some club on the edge of Itaewon, couldn’t spend all night getting sick over his supposed “soulmate”.

So, with a heavy heart and even heavier limbs, Minghao stood up. He washed his face in the sink, hoping to bring himself back to his senses, but it was no use. He felt like shit, looked like it too, if he was being honest with himself, but he had to leave.

He had to leave because, well-

Minghao didn’t know why himself. He convinced himself that he needed to get out of this club, get some fresh air, but what was the point beyond that? To get his bearings? No. To never see Soonyoung again? Probably.

Before he could think too much about it, his phone was in his hand as he made his way through the crowd. As soon as he stepped outside, the phone was to his ear and ringing.

He could call Mingyu or Jeonghan or maybe even Hansol, but they all those options left a bad taste in his mouth. Mingyu would probably pity him, before letting Minghao rant to him for the better half of an hour. Jeonghan would down something and shrug, telling Minghao to just go back to Soonyoung and suck him off or something. Hansol would offer to let them both get high to forget everything and just disconnect from the world for a while. While all those things offered their own sort of comfort in different situations, right now all Minghao wanted was for someone to listen to him and tell him what to do, especially with the rising taste of bile creeping up the back of his throat. As much as he loved his other friends, Seokmin was the best at giving advice and being a kind human being in general, so he honestly didn’t think twice before he called Seokmin.

It took a few seconds, but the other side eventually picked up with a quiet, “Hao? It’s, like, two in the morning, why are you up so late?”

“Seokmin, I’m sorry, but can you come pick me up?” Minghao’s hands were still shaking, with anxiety or fury, he didn’t know, but his emotions were making it hard to hold the phone.

There was silence on the other end for a while, too long in Minghao’s opinion, before Seokmin spoke up again. “Yeah, sure, where are you?”

Minghao contemplated if he should tell him now or wait until Seokmin figured it out. Opting for the option that gave him less of a headache, Minghao said, “I’m at that club I met Soonyoung in. I’ll tell you when you get here.”

There’s more silence and Minghao felt a little bit guilty for making his friend wait, but Seokmin comes through with a small, “Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

Minghao could hear the worry in Seokmin’s voice, knowing that his friend assumed the worse, whatever that may be. It’s for the best, though. Or, right now, at least. Explaining it over the phone would be too confusing and Minghao was just tired. He wanted to fall asleep, forget about tonight, forget about everything, forget about Soonyoung.

Seokmin would help in a way that only friends could- melt away the hardness that was beginning to grow over Minghao’s heart with his bright smile and understanding words. Seokmin was a good friend, too good for Minghao, too good for anyone, really.

Part of Minghao wished Seokmin was his soulmate instead. That way, Minghao would always be warm and he wouldn’t have to worry about anything. But then again, that would be selfish on his part. What could he offer to Seokmin besides snarky comments and confusing forms of affection?

_Whoever is Seokmin’s soulmate better be good to him_ , Minghao thought as he saw Seokmin’s car pull up to the front of the club.

“Thanks,” Minghao said softly as he got into the car.

It was quiet in Seokmin’s little car, almost definingly so compared to the loud and irregular  _thump thump_ s that resonated through the night from the clubs lining the street. Not even the radio was on, which was unusual in Seokmin’s case, so Minghao looked at him expectantly. Seokmin looked back, but didn’t say anything, just shifting the car into gear and pulling away from the curb.

If it wasn’t so quiet, Minghao wouldn’t have heard Seokmin’s sigh, and whisper, “My house or your’s?”

Minghao though for a moment before replying, “Your’s, please.” He didn’t want to be alone tonight, especially with how this thoughts were becoming sporadic and self-destructive. He was scared he might do something stupid all alone.

Seokmin just nodded and took the right turn to his apartment.

There’s more silence and Minghao had half a mind to turn the radio on, but he knows Seokmin had his reasons, so instead he asks, “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” The paranoid part of him is worried, scared that he upset his best friend even though he knows for a fact that Seokmin wouldn’t ditch him for waking him up at two am.

“Nah,” Seokmin said even though there was obvious tiredness in his voice. “I was doing some work when you called.” More silence before Seokmin continues with a light chuckle as an afterthought, “It’s probably for the best, though. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”

Minghao nodded even though he knew Seokmin wouldn’t be looking at him.

They pull into the parking garage for Seokmin’s complex, Seokmin parking as close to the exit as he could before they get out. It’s still quiet, and Minghao could practically feel the questions Seokmin wanted to ask dangling in the air.

It took the entire walk from the parking garage to the complex, up the stairs, and to Seokmin’s apartment for Seokmin to finally break.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked almost lamely. Minghao knew he wants to ask more, but he’s too kind to push, always too kind.

Minghao was torn. On the one hand, he didn’t want Seokmin to get involved. It’s his own problem and he should keep it to himself, figure it out himself, and stew to himself over it. On the other hand, he wanted to be fawned over like a broken porcelain doll, even though he knew he’ll feel guilty all the while. He wanted advice and attention and Seokmin is really the best option for both.

Relenting to his own need for validation, Minghao sighed and nodded. Seokmin just smiled, just as bright and warm despite the time of day (night?) and gestured for Minghao to sit.

“I’ll make us some tea while you think about it,” he said, leaving Minghao to himself. Seokmin was just five steps away in the kitchen, but as soon as he left, Minghao felt a deep sense of dread sink into his stomach. He didn’t know if he could stomach anything right now, but he wouldn’t turn down Seokmin’s kindness.

He appreciates Seokmin’s thoughtfulness, though. He allowed himself to think for a while, to gather his wits and words in a way that won’t make him sound like a blubbering mess. Korean isn’t his first language, so maybe Seokmin would cut him some slack if some of his sentences didn’t make sense.

Minghao didn’t know how long Seokmin is gone for, but when he came back, Minghao was nowhere near prepared. Seokmin handed him a cup of warm tea and sat next to Minghao with a patient expression. He’s really too good for anyone.

It took a moment for Minghao to gather himself enough to let out a sigh and say, “I saw him at the club”. Before Seokmin could smile and congratulate him, Minghao cut him off with a curt, “He was dancing with someone- grinding against them, really. He didn’t notice me.”

The smile immediately slips off Seokmin’s face, soon replaced with a concerned frown. “Minghao,” he said quietly, scooting closer to him on the couch to reach out a comforting hand. Seokmin’s fingers pressed into Minghao’s knee and Minghao wanted to cry.

“He-“ Minghao took a deep breath so he doesn't start hyperventilating- “He looked like he didn’t even care, like he never met his soulmate in the first place. He looked like he didn’t even care that I existed.”

Saying it out loud was different than thinking it, forcing Minghao to re-live probably the worst five minutes of his life. It made tears rise to the back of his eyes and threaten to spill over onto his cheeks if he wasn’t careful. He rubbed the palm of his hands into his eyes to try and force the feeling away, but it was to no avail.

“How do you feel right now?” Seokmin asked softly, probably trying to make sure Minghao wasn’t becoming destructive with the emotional storm currently raging in his mind.

Minghao sunk back into the couch, letting his back twist uncomfortably to accommodate the new position. He huffed the hair out of his face and stared at the ceiling, knowing that if he looked Seokmin in the eyes he would definitely start crying.

“Tired. Betrayed. Sad.” Another huff and Minghao was able to gulp down his pride enough to say, “I don’t know. I’m really hurt because I put in so much effort to find him again and he’s out there acting like I don’t even exist.”

Seokmin made a noise that Minghao couldn’t name an emotion behind, and, if he was being honest, he didn’t have the energy to try and decipher his small _mmph_. Instead of going into detail over his little noises, Seokmin just stood and once again disappeared. He got back a lot quicker, Minghao only just beginning to turn his head before a large blanket was dumped on top of him, almost making him spill his tea.

Seokmin continues to walk around the living room as he talked, gathering more things that might make Minghao feel better. “Whoever this Soonyoung guy is sounds like a real jerk. You’re probably better off forgetting about him for now.” Seokmin finally finds the remote he was rummaging around for and turned on the TV to an old American horror film. He settled back down next to Minghao after turning off the lights, burrowing under the blankets and letting his own warmth seep into Minghao.

“Are you telling me to ignore my feelings?” Minghao’s smile is small, a little bit teasing, but all around a lot better off than when Seokmin picked him up. Less tense.

Seokmin rolled his eyes and shoved Minghao’s shoulder. “No, you doof. I’m telling you to forget about him for now and focus on the good things. You need time to yourself to figure out your feelings so that the next time you see him you don’t punch him square in the jaw. You’ve been so focused on finding him these past couple of weeks that I was beginning to think you were becoming obsessed.” With his mini monologue finished, he turned to look at Minghao, his own smile turning up the corners of his eyes. “And even if things don’t work out between you guys, that’s his loss. I will always be here for emotional cuddling support and I know for a fact Mingyu would join in if we just asked.”

It took a little bit for Minghao to respond, his own smile going soft. “Thanks,” he said quietly. Seokmin was really too much of a good friend.

They fall asleep eventually, to the sound of foreign screams and black and white images flashing across the screen. They don’t wake up until well into the afternoon, and Minghao thinks, at least for today- for this week- soulmates are a little over rated.

 

* * *

 

There’s nothing more satisfying than complaining about an ex to a friend who is willing to agree with anything. Although, technically, Soonyoung isn’t Minghao’s ex because they never dated in the first place. Hell, Minghao only found out about him a month ago, but ranting is nice and lets him get out pent-up frustration that would otherwise build.

“He sounds like a right jerk,” Hansol says from upside-down on Seokmin’s sofa. Seokmin had been so kind as to invite him over the morning after last night’s unfortunate revelation as a small get-together. He also invited Mingyu and Jeonghan, but Jeonghan had work, so they were left waiting for Mingyu.

“That’s what I said!” Seokmin called excitedly from the kitchen where he was trying and failing to make bindaetteok. They’ll probably wait for Mingyu to arrive until they actually have real food.

“What do you think I should do?” Minghao asked, ignoring his previous resolve to forget about Soonyoung. He was never one to keep his own promises.

Hansol hummed to himself as he played with his fingers, examining how Seokmin’s bright overhead light filtered through his skin so he could see his bones. Minghao thinks he might be high or operating on 2 hours of sleep. Maybe both. Probably both.

“I say fuck this Soonyoung guy. Next time you see him in public, pull the closest person into a kiss just to spite him. Spit in his cereal. Slash his tires. Oh my god, we should frame him for murder.” At the last thought, Hansol rolled off the couch onto the floor so he could properly look up at Minghao.

“You do realize he’s supposed to be my soulmate, right? Not my sworn enemy?”

“Yeah, but sometimes soulmates are dicks and deserved to be jailed.”

“You haven’t even met your soulmate yet.”

Hansol clucked his tongue and pouted as he looked to the side. “Fair point.”

“Isn’t the whole ‘framing your soulmate for third degree murder’ the plot of a drama?” Seokmin asked from the kitchen. Minghao almost forgot they were in his house in the first place.

Hansol stopped pouting so he could furrow his eyebrows in thought. “That’s a possibility,” he said loud enough for Seokmin to hear him, “I knew I got it from somewhere but I couldn’t remember.”

Seokmin walked back into his living room, drying his hands on a towel. The stench of burnt food following him into the room. Minghao scrunched his nose.

“You need to stop watching daytime television while you’re high,” Seokmin said. Hansol just shrugged in response.

This was nice, Minghao decided. It was nice to not worry about finding Soonyoung; it was nice to not have his conscious eat away at himself wondering why he wasn’t good enough for his soulmate. It was nice not thinking about him for the time being.

Or, it was until Mingyu decided to rear his ugly head.

“Holy shit you’ll never guess what I found out!” Mingyu practically yelled as Seokmin’s front door banged against the wall, bounding back to smack against Mingyu’s outstretched hand. He flinched back his hand, but the pain didn’t stop his ear-splitting grin.

Seokmin didn’t even blink an eye, too used to Mingyu’s rambunctious behavior, before saying, “It better be how to make bindaetteok without garlic because I just realized I’m out.”

Mingyu stared blankly, smiling dropping for a fraction of a second to frown in thought. “I mean you could probably used cumin, but no, that’s not what I found out.”

“Is it the secrets of the universe? We could make profit out of that,” Hansol mused, not even bothering to get off the floor to greet Mingyu.

“ _No_ , you money-obsessed monster,” Mingyu scowled and took a step forward so he could pretend to kick him. Hansol feigned pain and placed the back of his hand to his forehead as he “fainted” to haphazardly lean against the couch. Mingyu scoffed, Minghao laughed.

“I found out where Soonyoung works.”

Mingyu was never one to be able to read situations all that well, but even he could tell that the playfulness was sucked out of the air by the vacuum known as ‘Mingyu’s obliviousness’ (name courtesy of Junhui, who says Mingyu couldn’t tell the difference between a funeral and a wedding).

“You what now?” Minghao asked after a few very long and thick seconds filled with Mingyu shifting nervously and Hansol trying to sit up without making too much noise.

“Um-“ Mingyu hesitated for a moment- “I found out where he works? I mean I could be wrong, but Jun hyung says he works with Wonwoo hyung at that 24 hour diner near our place.”

It takes a second longer for Minghao to look Mingyu straight in the eye and say, with the most stone-cold expression he could offer at the moment, “I don’t wanna talk to him.”

Mingyu is taken aback, sputtering out an incoherent sentence while Hansol looks up at him, baffled. Mingyu takes a step back from shock and Seokmin takes a step forward in concern.

“What do you mean you don’t wanna talk to him?” Hansol was the first able to speak, getting up on his knees so he could properly face Minghao. His eyes were wide and his eyebrows were so high that they disappeared behind his bangs.

“It means exactly what you think it means.” Minghao said, crossing his arms and somewhat pouting in a way that might be deemed childish if Minghao wasn’t twenty-four years old. “He’s a jerk and I have no interest in meeting him for a third time.”

“Hao, don’t be stubborn,” Seokmin said at the same time that Mingyu asked, “You met him more than once?”

Instead of addressing Seokmin, Minghao decided to explain to Mingyu. “I saw him at the club last night grinding against someone like a two cent whore,” he sneered venomously at just the thought, the urge to get violent rising in his throat and creeping onto the tip of his tongue. He bit it back, though, knowing that Mingyu was just trying to help.

“Minghao,” Mingyu said softly, confused.

Seokmin didn’t let him finish, though, quickly asking Mingyu to the kitchen, probably to tell him what Minghao went through last night so he wouldn’t have to relive it himself. Minghao was thankful even though he still had the urge to bare his teeth like an injured animal and snap at anyone that came too close.

Hansol continued to stare at him, though, eyes sad and a pout pulling his lower lip down. He wanted to say something, Minghao could tell, but he didn’t. All he did was stare and mull over whatever thoughts were crossing his mind and Minghao would have been uncomfortable if he wasn’t so used to Hansol’s strangeness.

Faintly, Minghao heard Seokmin whisper “Be nice” before they returned back to the living room, air significantly more awkward than before, but Minghao couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was like a switch was flipped off in his body and the catalyst was the mention of Soonyoung.

Mingyu coughed and Hansol finally stopped staring to join Minghao in looking up at him. “Do you- uh, like, want me to tell you- like, explain where he works or- so you can, ya know, talk to him, or do you want me to just, like, shut up?” He rambled, eyes flitting around the room like he was trying to find an exit.

There were two routes Minghao could take here. Well, technically, there were a lot of routes, but only two of them did Minghao see as a viable option: 1) He could tell Mingyu to just shut up, to forget about Soonyoung entirely until their paths naturally crossed and then, only then, discuss whatever the hell happened last night. That would allow for Minghao’s wounds to heal but it would also mean he would stew over his feelings and probably end up with an even stronger vendetta against his “soulmate” than he does now.

Or, 2) He could have Mingyu tell him about where Soonyoung works. Minghao wouldn’t really visit Soonyoung, or, at least, not right away. Simply knowing where he works so that when Minghao calmed down enough to not rip Soonyoung’s head off on sight, they could talk things through.

It was the ultimate power move in Minghao’s book. He had the ability to approach Soonyoung whenever but they would only meet when and if Minghao deemed it the time. Their quote unquote “destiny” would be in his hands. Minghao would be in control.

Hansol said Minghao was too analytical for his own good, but Minghao just considered himself confrontational when it came to his own life. Taking this into account, Minghao said:

“Tell me what you want, but don’t expect me to go flying into his arms within the hour.”

It was counter intuitive to past Minghao, who swore up and down to never see Soonyoung again, but Minghao is a man of contradictions and his life decisions don’t fall outside of that generalization.

 

* * *

 

Minghao kept the information Mingyu told him firmly tucked into the back of his mind. He worked at a tiny diner near northern Itaewon on weekdays, and taught dance lessons down the road every Friday. He partied on the weekends, usually, drinking his body weight’s worth in soju and burning it off by getting high.

Mingyu says that when Wonwoo was telling him and Junhui about Soonyoung, he had a permanent scowl on his face. Not that he was a bad person by any mean, but upon further investigation, it turned out that Soonyoung was too overly-bright and could be headache inducing when he wanted to be. Minghao found it a bit hard to believe, but Wonwoo still insisted that he was “a good kid, if a bit of an ass.”

Then again, the pseudo-interview was relaid by Mingyu to Minghao. Years of friendship and Minghao knows Mingyu isn’t the most reliable source even if he means well, so he takes it all with a grain of salt and bids his time.

Admittedly, Minghao doesn’t know much about Wonwoo besides the fact that he was childhood friends with Junhui and he lived with his soulmate, a rather short guy named Jihoon. They only met twice in person, but from the few minutes they spent together, Minghao gathered that they were similar in the regard of being observant and critical, so Minghao figured that, even if the information relayed was through Mingyu, it had to hold some sort of truth.

So, about a week later when Minghao was sick of waiting and a little bored, he held Wonwoo to his word and walked into the tiny diner at 2 o’clock sharp on an overly-bright Wednesday looking to start drama. It was small, like Wonwoo said, and completely empty besides the elderly couple sat near the back and the (probably high) teenager fighting to stay awake as he ate what looked like grease on a bun.

A blond haired worker had his back to the door, sweeping up a nonexistent mess on the floor. He turned when the bell above the door jingled, and, for the second time, Kwon Soonyoung made eye contact with Xu Minghao.

Soonyoung’s eyes widened almost comically, mouth falling open and the broom he held clattered to the floor. He looked stunned, and whatever clever, exposing question Minghao was going to ask died before it could even get past his throat. Soonyoung looked surprised and Minghao forgot how beautiful Soonyoung was.

“Minghao…” Soonyoung whispered, still in shock as he turned to fully face the younger. “Holy shit, you’re, like, actually real.”

Out of all of the things Soonyoung could have possibly said, Minghao was definitely not expecting that. Slightly taken aback, Minghao nodded.

“Oh my god, I’m- oh my god-“ Soonyoung’s hands were starting to shake and his eyes were becoming watery- “I can’t, uhm, fuck- “ he looked behind himself, looked back at Minghao, then turned around fully to lean over the counter and yell into what Minghao presumed was the kitchen. “Beomju hyung, I’m taking my break early!”

There was a single confirming shout from the kitchen before Soonyoung looked back at Minghao with bright eyes. He rushed towards Minghao and took either hand in both of his, leading both of them to sit down at a nearby booth.

“I just- wow, I can’t believe you’re actually real,” Soonyoung said, breathless and eyes sparkling.

To put it simply, Minghao was dumbfounded. The elderly couple were giving them weird looks but Minghao was too focused on processing what Soonyoung said.

“What do you mean you can’t believe I’m real?” He asked. Blurted, really. He didn’t mean to ask it but every assumption Minghao had about Soonyoung was starting to crack and this shift in reality was jarring to say the least.

Soonyoung blushed, face going red all over and even reaching his ears and neck. Minghao refused to find it endearing.

“Uhm, okay, so this is going to sound really stupid, but I kinda thought you were just a hallucination I had while high.”

It came out sounding like a question and all Minghao could do was blink in confusion. He didn’t have too much experience with weed, but from what he knows, it doesn’t exactly cause someone to hallucinate or think they’re dreaming.

Soonyoung saw the doubt on Minghao’s face and laughed nervously, looking off to the side and playing with his hair nervously. “Yeah, it sounds stupid, I know, but like- I think someone spiked my drink. I was really fucked up when you found me and I was tripping real hard.”

While Soonyoung was talking, Minghao tried taking his own hands back, but Soonyoung still held on. Feeling Minghao’s apprehension, Soonyoung looked down at their hands then back up at Minghao.

“It’s not that-“ Minghao stopped himself, not really knowing where he was going with his thoughts running every which way. He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows and looking off to the side, trying to find a way to put his thoughts in a coherent order.

Slowly, Minghao says, “If you thought I was an… hallucination… why did you think you could see color?” It was the most glaringly obvious question Minghao could string together at the moment.

The blush that had started to subside on Soonyoungs face came back full force. He coughed and glanced around the room before settling his eyes back onto Minghao. “Um, okay, so, like-“ he took a deep breath and retried, “Everything that happened was kind of a blur. Like, I could remember bits and pieces, and I could remember your name, but other than that, I was drawing a blank. Well, until you walked through the door. Everything just kinda made sense then, ya know?”

Soonyoung’s voice was shaky and Minghao didn’t know how to feel. He was supposed to be mad at Soonyoung, but if he really was that fucked up, was it his fault he didn’t remember much? Yeah, he’s the one who decided to smoke, but he said someone spiked his drink, so he can’t be 100% at fault. Plus, they were supposed to be soulmates. The universe stuck them together for a reason.

Almost as if he was reading his thoughts, Soonyoung spoke up. “Let’s just try doing this whole thing over,” he said, letting go of Minghao hand to hold it out for a handshake. “Hi, I’m Kwon Soonyoung and I’m your soulmate!”

Minghao looked at the hand for a moment, glanced up at Soonyoung, then looked back at the hand.

_Fuck it, right?_

Minghao took Soonyoung’s hand and shook it firmly. Maybe they could fix this. Maybe they could put this whole ordeal behind themselves and figure each other out like they were supposed to, like the soulmates they were meant to be.

“I’m Xu Minghao. Nice to meet you, _soulmate_.”

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully i can have this done before the end of the year, but knowing me, i wont finish it until next year rip


End file.
